M is for Mystery
by xrosepetalx
Summary: "What could you possibly want at," he glanced at the clock, "two bloody o'clock in the morning, when you very well know I just left the office two hours ago?" Auror Harry Potter is not having a good night.


**M is for Mystery**

Harry bolted upright, wand in hand, as he sensed the foreign magic condensed next to his headboard. Seeing only the grizzly bear Patronus of his boss, he relaxed before snapping, "What could you possibly want at," he glanced at the clock, "_two bloody o'clock in the morning_, when you very well know I just left the office two hours ago?"

"Sorry, Potter," the grizzly responded, "urgent case jus' came in an' we need you here ASAP."

As the silvery bear faded away, Harry got out of bed and walked to his closet, grabbing some clean clothes and one of his Auror robes, slowly slipping into the serious mien he had adopted during training. After all, he didn't want people thinking he had just gotten into the program because he was the Chosen One. He was determined to prove that he had earned his position as Head Auror-in-Training at the tender age of twenty-five.

***

Flooing into the Ministry of Magic, Harry met his best mate and partner, Ron Weasley.

"D'you know what this is about?" he asked.

Ron shook his head, stopping to let out a massive yawn and rub blearily at his eyes. He was clearly still asleep.

They stepped into the lift, ignored the memos flittering about the ceiling as usual, and got off at level two to be met with their impatient boss waiting for them right in front of the lift.

"'Bout time you two layabouts got 'ere," Gawain Robards groused, "My office, now." And with that sharp command, he turned on his heel and swept down the hall, clearly expecting them to follow in all haste. Harry and Ron did so, wondering what kind of case could have gotten their normally kindly boss in such a foul temper.

They didn't have to wait long. As soon as their buttocks touched the two seats in front of Robard's desk, he launched into an explanation of their case.

"Someone 'as stolen th' Elder Wand from Albus Dumbledore's tomb." Ah, straight to the point, then, as usual. "I need you two to get to 'Ogwarts righ' away t' investigate the scene."

***

With two loud cracks echoing into the starless night, Harry and Ron Apparated into the alley behind the Three Broomsticks. As they walked past the front door with Ron looking longingly at the warmth and cheer that seemed to ooze from the well-known inn, Harry nodded in greeting to Madam Rosmerta, who was sweeping the front stoop. Elbowing Ron in the side, Harry gave him a sharp look. They had a job to do.

After a long jog around the lake, they were met at the front gates by Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. Looking unusually grim, she beckoned to them and murmured, "I should've known he'd send you two," before leading them to Dumbledore's tomb.

For Harry, it was like the memory of Voldemort's theft from years ago had jumped from his head and replayed itself. There was the tomb, split open to reveal the preserved corpse of Albus Dumbledore, spectacles still resting upon his crooked nose. His hands were still gently folded together, as if desperately trying to protect his most prized and hated possession, but in vain. The Elder Wand was missing.

Harry approached the tomb while Ron followed McGonagall to a short distance to get her story. Taking care to listen in to the conversation, he proceeded to search the scene for any clues as to who could have committed this foul crime.

"Can you describe to me the events that led to you discovering the theft?" Ron began with.

"It was about one-thirty in the morning when I was awoken by the alarm. After the last theft, we decided to put one up just in case," McGonagall explained. "I immediately rushed down to the tomb, hoping to catch the thief, but was too late. By the time I got here, it was as you see now," she finished, gesturing to where Harry was still prowling around the scene. "There is one thing that you should know. No one except George Weasley and I, well, now you two and the thief, know about this. Mr. Weasley created a charm designed to stain the hands of anyone who removes the Elder Wand without the permission of the Head. It is irremovable except by myself."

Harry listened to all of this with half an ear as he concentrated on finding some kind of clue. Not finding anything obvious, he stretched out his magic, hoping to find some kind of residue lurking anywhere. It reached further and further, until it finally snagged just a bit of what appeared to be a Disillusionment charm.

"Ron!" he shouted. "I found something. Help me analyze."

A couple seconds later, he felt the Gryffindor red magic that screamed Ron join his dusky gold in surrounding the foreign sample.

"I can't tell for sure," Ron said, "but it feels familiar, like I've encountered it before."

Harry thought a bit more, examining the signature while looking around for less obvious clues. Walking around the tomb, he looked at the ground, hoping for footprints or something mundane that a pureblood might not think of. Turning away with a sigh, something caught his eye. There, lying innocently in the dirt, almost underneath the tomb, was a pale blond hair reflecting the faint moonlight. Spotting that hair, it all clicked together.

"Malfoy," Harry breathed, "it's Malfoy. Here's his hair and we've definitely felt his magic enough during our school-day spats. Plus, I heard today he hasn't been seen in a while," he continued, excited at how easily everything was coming together. "Now, all we have to do is find him and his hands will tell us the truth!"

"Harry," Ron started, "it can't be Malfoy."

"How could it not be?" Harry demanded.

"Because…" Ron hesitated, before raising his wand and rapping himself on the head. Red, scruffy hair melted into pale blond locks while freckles disappeared and skin lightened. Blue eyes faded into grey and Draco Malfoy stood in front of him. "I've been here the whole time."

Harry stood for a moment in shocked silence before speech came back to him. "But, why have you been disguised as Ron? Does Robard know about this?"

"Of course he knows," Draco responded. "This is the last part of my training before I become a full-fledged Auror: it combined everything one needs to know. Weasley agreed to help; he used the opportunity to take Granger on an extended cruise around the world."

After a short silence, Harry responded with the only thing that came to mind: "How did you know everything about Ron?"

"Six years of watching you three looking for taunt-worthy material had something to do with it," Draco countered. "Now, enough with the questions, we have a case to solve."

"I don't know what you're griping about," Harry grumbled. "The only other Malfoy I know of with a possibly nefarious motive is Lucius..."

As Harry trailed off, Draco stared at him with an inscrutable look on his face. Then, with a hint of the mocking sneer he became so infamous for, he slowly said, "Well then, let's go find him."

And with a scowl and a smirk, they went off to do just that.

***

"The most obvious place to check would be Malfoy Manor," Harry said to Draco as they came down High Street.

"Of course," Draco responded, "Father would think it the perfect hiding place as our recent wards mean that you need to be of Malfoy blood or escorted by someone of Malfoy blood to gain access." Stopping behind the Three Broomsticks, he told Harry to "Follow my lead," before Disapparating. Grabbing hold of Draco's magic, Harry found himself appearing in front of a pair of familiar wrought-iron gates. Draco grabbed hold of Harry's wrist and stepped through the gates like they were nothing more than smoke.

After walking up the drive, they reached the front door, which a house-elf opened for them.

"Fetch my father," Draco said to it.

"Tribbly will be doing that right away, Master Draco, sir," it squeaked, before disappearing with a loud crack.

A few minutes later, with Harry hiding Disillusioned in the corner, Lucius Malfoy came striding into the front hall, clad in rich emerald robes with matching suede gloves.

"Come, come, Draco, what's this all about?" he inquired, the picture of an aloof aristocrat.

"_Petrificus totalus!_" Draco shouted, immobilizing his father where he stood. As he fell over, Draco Summoned Lucius's gloves, revealing a rather interesting spectacle. Not only were his hands painted, but the colors and patterns seemed to be changing at random intervals. One moment they were bright pink with green polka dots, the next they were purple and yellow striped, and they just kept changing.

Harry broke the Disillusion and bound Lucius in Magic-Suppressor Handcuffs, putting on an Anti-Disapparition Jinx just to be safe. Only then did Draco release his hex and ask the question they were both fairly sure they knew the answer to: "Why did you do it?"

"For the power, of course," Lucius sneered. "Have I taught you nothing?"

"No," Draco responded, "you taught me something: what not to do."

***

Lucius was tried and found guilty. His punishment was seventy-five years in Azkaban in the high-security wing. He eventually went completely insane and died before his release.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione became good friends with Draco, though they still had their battles of wit every once in a while.

And the Elder Wand remained in Albus Dumbledore's tomb forevermore.


End file.
